Its been almost 5 months ..

Since I left work.

I miss working.

I feel like Im in this tragic baby limbo right now. When we first got here at least I had the rush of getting things ready to distract me. Now that were all set up I just really want to do SOMETHING with my brain. Go somewhere intellectual. Of course being in the pit of South Georgia doesnt help - as much as I hate to say it I do miss Washington in that regard. People were semi intelligent. While I love the laid back attitude of the south it certainly isnt the epicenter of “edumacation”.

Ive emailed my old boss to see if she had anything for me to work on. Allen is some work but even between him and housecleaning it doesnt take up all day. Maybe Im doing it wrong.

Things I dont ever want to hear again

1) “Have you had that baby yet?” (in person): This has to be the stupidest comment Ive ever heard. Because you are looking RIGHT AT ME. With a big belly. So the answer is no I havent ...  although I would think that would be implied. Because if I HAD the baby I probably would not be this pregnant again right now. Thats just what I know from my limited schooling on the matter.

2) Following that up with “Because you are so big! You cant possibly carry anymore! ZMOG!” makes you not only an idiot but an asshole.

3) “Are you dilated”?: This is only acceptable from 3 people - my mother, my best friend and my husband. If you are, say, the cashier at my local Food Lion (TRUE STORY) then please refrain from asking how wide my birth canal is at the present time. Not okay.

4) “Rest while you can!”: This is the least annoying, because even I say it to myself. In theory it sounds perfect ... rest now before there is a screaming piglet who demands all of your time, energy and sanity. But in reality between the raging heartburn, the fake contractions (that hurt but dont do anything), and other assorted ailments, the last thing Im actually able to do is sleep. Mostly I just pace through the house with a mean look on my face. If my house were a dark alley I would be a “suspicious person”.

5) “He’ll come when hes ready!”: Thats also great if you arent a selfish bitch like I am. I dont want to wait until he’s ready. I’m telling him that IM ready. Arent I the mom? Dont I get to make the rules? This isnt how I saw this panning out.

6) “You should just be grateful”: Yes. I am grateful. Thats why I have changed my entire life to better cater to my new child and my family. But when I stub my toe, and I say that it hurts, that doesnt mean that Im not grateful to be alive. When youre being waterboarded its okay to look forward to the day when you can NOT be anymore.

7) Any variation of “youre so big”, “are you having twins”, “you have to set the record for being the most pregnant that anyone has ever been ever”: Any and all of these comments will guarantee you a side eye and poor Allen having to listen to another diatribe from his wife about how people suck. Dont let this be you - educate.

I love this shit

I used to drink shots of tequila.

Now I drink shots of Maalox.

But I love Maalox. Its the only thing that prevents me from throwing up due to heartburn. Its like AC for my mouth.

Maybe I wouldnt need it so badly if John wasnt 1/4 Mexican and wanted spicy food all the time.

Spicy food - Maalox - repeat.

Pregnancy things your momma isnt telling you: Part 3

Im here to be your safe alternative to those people (and we all know one) who have pregnancies that are totally amazing, and they love it, and they dance through fields in white dresses while shitting unicorns and glitter.

That gig is awesome if you can get it, but the truth is most of us are fat, tired and miserable for about 9 months (longer if your kid is destined to be one of those that lives in the basement until hes 40, therefore surely not coming out of the womb in a timely fashion).

So I have it on good source (aka my birth month board - but, also from my midwife) that Evening Primrose Oil is a good way to thin your cervix as you approach that time. It doesnt induce labor, but taken in the weeks prior its said to be very helpful in an easier thinning/effacement process.

My MW said to take it orally, but lots of the girls take it vaginally (Im just going to go ahead and use medical terminology here, instead of hoo-hoo or whatever).

I bought the bottle of pills, and of course proceed to take a sniff (listen, if its going up in there Id like to know what I can expect). It turns out that the capsules actually smell like hot funky death, so I determined that was a no go for launch. Im already fat, I havent seen my feet in forever, and its a bazillion degrees so I sweat a lot. Throwing a stink bomb up my birth canal isnt exactly going to increase my stock (and, Im going to need to have sex for the next step in desperate labor induction ....).

But tonight I figured, what the hell? Other people are doing it (see Board, Birth Month), it cant hurt anything, and Id REALLY like to see my cervix get on its shit so I can have a beer. I put two capsules “up in there” before I went to bed. I had my doubts about their staying power, but apparently my vag is like a venus fly trap for cervical thinning oils.

I am now up at 3 am, thanks to the cricket of death (which is a whole other post, thank you), but I can tell you this - should you decide to put EPO up your hallway, realize this: you ARE going to wake up thinking your water has broken.

Apparently its a law of gravity that what goes UP must come DOWN and oil up your vagina is no different. Im just glad I thought that through before I woke Allen up shrieking again (as previously seen during my first midnight calf cramp, and when I pulled a neck muscle in my sleep). I think hes been through enough.

Bible Study

Doing my very first ever Bible Study with PWOC here at Stewart (this is the kind of shit I get to do when Im not working .... yes, I think Jesus forgives me when I say shit).

I chose the study that focuses on some of the writings of the New Testament, mainly 1,2 and 3 John (fitting ...). Its turned out to be the absolute best thing I could have done.

John is about love. Its about light. Its about forgiveness, loving each other, not holding onto hatred or walking in darkness. It says that we who admit that we have sinned are forgiven  .... no shit. God never expects us to be perfect. He just expects that well say were sorry, that well repent, and that well do better next time.

Its actually all rather easy if you think about it.

Anyhow, as we start closing in on “launch time”, I can say Im ready. Im ready to bring our baby into the world. Were at a good place here at Stewart - met some people that are leading to friendships, with more to come. Were in a good place in our marriage. Nothing is perfect, but Im comfortable with what path were on.

Its good to know that who I was before (as a mom, as a friend, as a wife and as a person) doesnt have to be the person that I am. That its okay to love people, even if they hate me or have done me wrong. That its okay to wake up every morning and resolve to do it better today.

Overall, great lesson.

Vacations

Are just what we needed. Spent the weekend back home in Daytona with my mom, Devon and Allen (and John too, but I suppose thats implied). Took a short “babymoon”, although we spent it with family. Mom and I saw two movies (The Help and Glee 3D, which was the awesome-ness and anyone who doubts it has never seen the Glee club perform Born This Way ... in fact I may link it. Youre welcome). We did the beach, didnt cook a damn thing, and slept in every day. It was a general break from the day to day, and a huge reminder of why we moved here. It took us less time to get there and back then it would have taken to drive, park, and check in for one flight. So there you go.

Today we went on the last big shop, which included all the things we need to have on hand after birth. I have no idea why I need calcium and B6 tablets, but they went to school for this shit, so I trust them.

John is forever stretching himself into very creepy positions that cause us all to play the game “what the fuck is baby doing in there?”. Contractions have started - nothing serious, no patterns, but enough to say that something is hopefully going on in there.

Ive got about 15 more days of normal life before I shut myself in the house until I can emerge less one watermelon sized human. Its just too uncomfortable to be alive - however, it is a fantastic 74 degrees outside right now, Allen is on night duty, and I might be the crazy who is on her porch at almost 2 am. But they can laugh all they want, its been months since I could go out my front door without my asshole melting into my socks.

Stop Just stop acting like this isnt the best thing EVER TO HAPPEN.

Screw him, what about me?

This is me at 35 weeks. 

Also I am (admittedly) rather snippy as of late. This may explain why even complete strangers make a sad face and say “your poor husband”. At first that made me even MORE angry - poor Allen? Is Allen carrying around 6 pounds of baby in 600 degree heat? Does he go to the restroom and feel like a bowling ball is going to fall out his asshole (well, maybe he does, I dont know. But hes not secretive about his bathroom habits, so I assume Id know by now if he did). Does Allen want to cry before he leaves the house because there is just NO WAY to dress up cute when youre the worlds largest warthog?

But I do feel sorry for him as well. There is just no telling what will send me into a pregnant rage lately. For the first 34 weeks I was pretty calm, being far too tired to get into any sort of emotion. Apparently that has flown out the window now - I cant sleep at night no matter how hard I try, so during the day I just walk around ready to ninja out on someone.

The fun is just beginning! Seriously though, when its all said and done, this is by far and away the coolest thing thats ever happened. We love this little boy in there. The other day I was in the tub, and I pulled the plug. Apparently the sudden noise scared the crap out of him because he very distinctly jumped a mile. You go through a day tired and hormonal, but one moment like that can bring you right back to why its the best thing ever (the best thing ever that Ill never do again of course). 

35 weeks

Around that time you start doing things you never thought youd do when you were 20 weeks along and super excited about your pregnancy/still fit in normal people clothes.

Its where you curse anyone who can button their jeans.

Its where you greet news of a new pregnancy with the phrase “Im so sorry” (not because youre really sorry, of course youre happy. You are just a miserable fuck who should have been jailed at about week 34).

Your esophagus burns itself down, despite your Pepcid+Tums+Papaya Extract combo.

When everyone looks at you and says “When Im pregnant I wont be as fat/crabby/shitty as she is” (yeah - weve all said it).

You start to hate everything. I hate getting up. I hate lying down. I hate tv, and I hate outside. I hate everything except cookies - because no one should hate cookies.

You start to make bargains with the baby. You tell the baby you will buy it shiny toys and a Jeep and its own condo if it will just COME THE FUCK OUT.

Sayings like lighting crotch and extreme pelvic pressure are in your everyday vocabulary.

The new interventionist on Intervention really pisses you off. Where are Jeff and the old lady that needs botox?

You sit and refresh Facebook a lot so you can see your friends doing all that stuff you used to love to do, but couldnt do right now if you wanted to because you are too damn tired. And fat.

Truth is, I wish this misery on everyone because of course its 100% worth it. And trust me, when you all are fat and unhappy and want to kick puppies, youll appreciate having a sympathetic ear to set off all the people who tell you that they LOVED being pregnant ;)

Speaking of assholes Part 2 (this is actually about assholes) ...

They also have to “swab” your butthole for the Group B Strep test.

Anyone you ask is all “its not that bad”, but to me anytime anyone is “swabbing” my back door without the added benefit of alcohol and/or something shiny and expensive, I dont like it.

Im going to stick to that right.

Speaking of assholes.

During a phone conversation this last weekend, I explained something to Yeci I doubt shell ever forget ... and its more of the shit that no one tells you about pregnancy.

Me: So I get these weekly updates for my pregnancy in email. And the last one said I might consider perineal stretching.

Yeci: Oh Lord ... what is that?

Me: So, its apparently to prevent tearing during delivery. Your parter is supposed to go down there, put his index fingers in your vag hole, and slowly stretch it apart. Ten reps a night.

Yeci: Have you spoken with Allen about his new responsibility?

Me: Not yet. You know Allen. Hell come in with a flashlight duct taped to his head, a tire jack and WD-40.


So there you go. You know youre ready to have a baby with someone when you’re comfortable having them stretch your hoo-hoo.


For the record, I did address this with Allen (on the way home from church no less), and he made the noise that you hear when the mechanics take your tires off with that special drill thingy. So A) I was right and B) Im not doing it.